Still Standing
by Sand-wolf579
Summary: Johnny struggles with figuring out what to perform for the competition and thinks about his relationship with his dad.


**A/N: I was finally able to see Sing, and I absolutely loved it. The soundtrack was enjoyable and I thought that all of the character's numbers for the big performance perfectly suited what each of them was going through. They were able to find songs that expressed how they were feeling and what they were struggling with. What really struck me though was Johnny's song, and now I feel the need to write about it, so here we go!**

Johnny frowned as he looked over the list of songs again. His first choice hadn't really gone over all that well, so Mr. Moon had suggested that he work on his backup. It was a brilliant idea...except Johnny had never decided on a backup. He had barely decided on a first up. It wasn't that he didn't like any of these songs, a lot of them were actually quite good, it was just that none of them really _spoke_ to him.

After looking at the list of songs for the hundredth time Johnny groaned in frustration and scratched at his head. The list fluttered down to the ground, and he couldn't even bring himself to care. It was ridiculous how difficult this was. How was it that relearning how to play the piano was easier than picking a stupid song?

Johnny sighed and looked over towards the piano. Maybe he could just go over there and play out a few keys, practice his scales like Mrs. Crawly had shown him. After all, he _did_ still have a lot of practicing to do, and he obviously wasn't getting anywhere with this.

The thing was, Johnny knew that it wouldn't matter how good he got on his piano if he didn't have a song to play. Until he figured this out, he was completely stuck.

Johnny took a deep breath and picked up the list again. For a minute he tapped out the beat and hummed the notes to two or three of the songs, but he just wasn't _feeling_ it, which was really weird. He knew _all_ of these songs by heart, they were just his style. Honestly, picking a song should be the easiest thing to do. Even _Ash_ wasn't having this much bloody frustration choosing a song...sure, he had heard that she was planning on writing one of her own instead, but that was besides the point. Johnny just wished that he could figure out what song to do.

"Oh, who am I kidding?" Johnny muttered to himself. It wasn't the song that was the problem. Any one of these songs would probably work out fantastically. It was his _heart_ that wasn't into the music.

How's that for irony? He gets so sucked into the theater and the music that his dad and uncles get arrested. And now, they're not on his back anymore and he can do all the singing he likes, except all he really wants to do is go to the prison and see his dad. Unfortunately, his dad didn't want to see him anymore, so that wasn't exactly an option.

A knock on the door of the practice room brought Johnny out of his mini pity party before he could really get it started. The door opened and Mr. Moon poked his head in. "Hey, Johnny, you working hard in here?"

"Not exactly, no." Johnny shook his head and shoved the list into his pocket. He really couldn't focus. Not on his music, and not on anything else in his life either. He just felt like he was failing at all of it.

Buster's usual exciting expression fell slightly at Johnny's discouragement. He was the owner of this theater, the one putting on this whole show, it was _his_ responsibility to make sure that things were going okay with all of his performers. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I just…" Johny trailed off and ran a hand through his fur. "I've just got a lot on my mind right now.

Buster actually frowned at those words. "This doesn't have anything to do with why you've been running off, does it? If you have other priorities-"

"What? No, Mr. Moon, I swear, I don't have any other commitments." Johnny said honestly. With his father locked up Johnny had nothing else _but_ this theater and performance to devote his time to.

Buster didn't entirely believe Johnny, but he decided to take his word for it. "That's good to hear." Buster still couldn't help but worry. Johnny had always seemed stressed to him, and today there just seemed to be a new layer of helplessness and anxiety thrown in. It was kind of depressing to see. Even though Buster really didn't know Johnny that well on a personal level (or any of his performers, really...maybe he should work on that) he still felt the need to help him. "So, Mrs. Crawly says you've been here all day."

"Uh, yeah, I have." Johnny confirms.

"Well, maybe that's the problem." Buster goes to the corner of the room towards Johnny's skateboard. "Sometimes all you can do sometimes is take a step back, breath, relax, and look at things from a whole new perspective." He pushed the skateboard towards Johnny, who stopped it with his foot and picked it up.

"Are you saying you think I should go for a ride on my board?" Johnny tilted his head, slightly confused. He didn't really see what good a simple ride would do. Mr. Moon seemed to have a pretty good idea though, as he was grinning encouragingly at him.

"Well, there's no harm in trying." Buster said enthusiastically. "Who knows? It might just do you some good." With his music _and_ his personal life. While Buster would love to stay and help Johnny out some more, he was a busy koala with other struggling performers to check on. He just hoped that Johnny could figure things out on his own.

"Yeah, sure." Johnny muttered as Buster left. Even though he didn't really understand what he would be able to accomplish while riding on his skateboard, he still prefered this plan to just sitting around and hoping his music will come back to him. Johnny sighed and shook his head. "I must be bloody insane." He muttered to himself as he headed outside.

He knew the chances of him figuring things out while he was out were extremely low, but he seriously needed a break. He couldn't _think_ in there, or anywhere, really. He needed to clear his head and just not think about anything, just for a little while.

Johnny took his earbuds out of his pocket and put them in. He turned on the new playlist that he had made that had all of the songs from his list. Maybe while listening numbly to the songs something would jump out to him. Johnny turned the music up to as high as it could go without making his ears bleed and rolled out on his board.

Even though he had nowhere to be and wasn't in a rush, not to mention the fact that it would be a million times safer, Johnny rode his board quickly and in the streets amongst the cars. He ducked and weaved through the larger vehicles like he did whenever he was running late for something, even though he wasn't. If there was one thing Johnny considered himself a pro at it was weaving through traffic, whether on his board in in his truck. Unless traffic was completely backed up he could pretty much get wherever he wanted to go in decent time.

For some reason riding like this often helped Johnny to relieve his stress or tension. At the same time though it always made him feel like he was trying to get away from something. The police. His problems.

His father.

Johnny frowned and kicked aggressively at the ground, pushing himself forward to an even faster speed. He hated this. Even when he was trying to avoid thinking about his dad, he was all that was on his mind. It was the one thing that he couldn't escape. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try though.

Johnny sped down the streets. With every kick he went even faster and it still wasn't enough. He needed more. He needed the wind in his face to be even stronger. He needed the music blasting in his ears to blow his thoughts away. He just needed everything to _stop._

"Hey, watch it!" Johnny's eyes widened when a car from an intersecting street suddenly turned in front of him, cutting him off. Johnny gave a shout of surprise and quickly swerved to avoid running into the larger vehicle. His legs were shaking and he suddenly didn't feel like riding in traffic anymore. Johnny turned to the sidewalk and jumped off his board.

"Oh, geeze." Johnny took in a deep, shaky breath. That had been _way_ too close. Maybe he should walk from here. Still breathing deeply Johnny looked around and realized he knew exactly where he was. His dad's garage was only about a block away. Johnny didn't really want to be at the garage right then, but at least it was a secluded place where he _knew_ nobody else would be.

Johnny picked up his skateboard and made his way towards the garage. He didn't even notice the annoyed looks that were being thrown his way as he literally pushed past the other animals on the sidewalk. He normally wasn't so rude, but his thoughts were so crowded that he didn't even notice the people around him.

Johnny ran into the garage and slammed the door shut behind him. As far as anybody else was concerned, this place was abandoned. The last thing he needed was for someone to notice him there and begin asking awkward questions.

Johnny took a deep breath and looked around the garage. The place was an absolute mess, as it usually was just before a heist. His dad always got so into planning for the job that he paid even less attention to cleaning things up than he usually did. Johnny wasn't exactly a clean freak, but even he had his standards on just how cluttered a single garage could get. He almost always cleaned the place up just a bit after a heist while his dad and uncles went out celebrating. Right now though, Johnny couldn't bring himself to do that.

Johnny slowly walked over to where the plans for the big heist lay. The little pieces that represented his father's gang and the police were still sitting on the plans, just as they had been on the days before it had all gone down for real. This had been one of his father's most carefully planned out heists, and now everything was ruined...because of him.

' _You're not doin' it right, Johnny.'_

' _How did I end up with a son like you?'_

' _You're nothing like me. You never were, and you never will be.'_

"Well, maybe I don't want to be!" Johnny shouted to nobody. He slammed his fist down on the plans, knocking the pieces down. He was breathing heavily and felt all of the emotions he'd been holding in all this time just boil up and come out.

"You were always pushing me around, never let me choose to do things on my own." Johnny pushed the plans onto the floor. "Nothing I ever did was good enough for you. _I_ was never good enough for you."

"I never wanted to be like you. I never…" Johnny let out a shaky breath and slid down to the ground. "I never wanted this." He said in an almost whisper. He hadn't wanted his father to get arrested. He never wanted to feel like he was absolutely nothing. And he had _definitely_ never wanted his father to basically disown him.

But all of that had happened, and he couldn't change anything about it. He had screwed everything up, and now he either had to make things right or live with the consequences of _his_ mistake.

"...No." Johnny said to himself. What was he thinking? That _not_ being there to be his father's getaway driver had been a mistake? Since when was it a mistake to not assist in committing a crime? Johnny had never wanted to be a criminal in the first place. He had never wanted _any_ of this. Ever since he was a child he was always wondering why being a thief and criminal was something that his father worked so hard at. He just didn't understand it, and he didn't think he ever would.

He didn't think he ever wanted to.

"This isn't my fault." Johnny muttered. He looked up and repeated. "This isn't my fault!" His father had been arrested because he had committed a crime, because that was just what happened. If Johnny _had_ been there and they'd gotten caught than the same thing would have happened, and he wouldn't be to blame at all.

"It's not my fault." Johnny said quietly, as though he hoped that if he repeated it enough times he may just start believing it. Johnny lowered his gaze and buried his face in his hands. Deep down, he _knew_ that he shouldn't be blaming himself for this whole mess...but he still did.

"I'm sorry dad." Johnny said, even though he knew his father would never listen, even if he was there. "I'm sorry." He wished that he didn't feel this way. He wished that he didn't feel like he absolutely _needed_ his father's approval.

He wished that he could be stronger.

Johnny didn't know how long he sat there before he realized that his music had been playing this whole time. Feeling a desperate need to just escape from everything Johnny let himself go and just escaped into the music. He focused on the tune and lyrics. He let the song into his head. Into his heart. Into his soul. And then, almost like a switch went off deep inside of him Johnny suddenly knew.

This was his song.

Even though the song was not quite over yet Johnny started it over and let it wash over him from beginning to end. He then listened to it again, and again, and again. With each repeat Johnny became more sure that this was what he was meant to perform.

Johnny didn't necessarily feel like the song perfectly reflected how he currently felt, but the lyrics seemed to describe the exact way that Johnny _wanted_ to be. _This_ was what he was reaching for, and maybe he would get there, someday.

Johnny pushed himself to his feet. He needed to get back to the theater and begin practicing this immediately. Before leaving though, he had one more thing to say to his father (even though he wasn't there) and to himself.

"I _am_ sorry about all of this, dad." Johnny swore. The situation they were both in sucked, a lot, and he would do anything to change it. "I'm not going to stop trying though. Even if I don't win the contest, I'll find a way to get the bail money and get you out." Johnny didn't want his father to be locked up in prison. Criminal or not, he didn't deserve it.

However, Johnny understood that even if he got his dad out, he may never forgive him for not being there with the truck. And Johnny was...trying to be okay with that.

"I don't want to lose you, dad." Johnny said meaningfully. It was the absolute _last_ thing that he wanted right then. "I definitely _want_ you in my life...but I _don't_ need you." Even if his father didn't believe in him, and even if he didn't believe in himself, Johnny was stronger than he looked, and he _would_ learn to live without his father if he needed to.

Johnny was a survivor, and he _could_ do things on his own. He _was_ good enough.

"I can do this." Johnny said confidently as he took the crumpled up list out of his pocket, snatched a pencil off of a nearby table and circled one of the songs. "I'm still standing."


End file.
